It Starts With a Girl
by Wordgawk
Summary: Nero stops by Devil May Cry to release some Kyrie frustrations. Will Dante be a moron or will he really help?


Author's note: I like Kyrie, so when I had the humorous random thought of how to make Nero miffed at her, I ended up creating this story! Quite the challenge since she doesn't show up in many of DMC4's cutscenes. Read and review!

* * *

It Starts With a Girl

Nero stared hard at the glowing neon filament poised high above the archway of the entrance to Devil May Cry. The logo, bright and so very pink, was inviting. Early evening and he finally made it here. Traversing all the way from Fortuna took time he'd rather not relive again stewing.

He had brainstormed a plan before he left: Get fumed in Fortuna, check. Seethe more on his motorbike all the while being stuck inside his chaotic brain of whirlwind thoughts, check. The end result? To release a spew of venting to Dante who Nero assumed would understand. Hopefully.

But now that Nero was here, he was having a difficult time getting his foot through the double doors. Sure, he had beans to spill about what was lighting his angry fuse but did a legendary blood descendant of Sparda like Dante relate to that kind of trivial stuff? Nero wasn't acquainted with him enough yet to know.

He didn't have longer to debate when one of the doors swung open. The non-human himself hung forward off the doorknob, a roguish grin pasted on his mouth. "You comin' in, kid? Or are you going to stand out here for the next decade and let flies inhabit your open mouth?"

"Hi." Nero had enough mind to greet with civility instead of an insult. Those could be thrown in spades later.

Dante stood aside and swept his arm in a sweeping display as a butler did for a visitor. "Do enter, my guest."

Testily, Nero accepted the invitation. Before this trip, Nero had dropped by the shop a total of one time. Restoring the wrecked Fortuna after their huge battle was priority.

He could be surprised at what he saw when he entered. On Nero's previous visit, the office had no doors and peering inside from the doorstep was like previewing what attraction was to come before watching the main event. Very disconcerting. Today, the office was a bit disorderly. Haphazard pizza boxes were strewn on the desk, and random pop and beer cans littered the hardwood floor, some stepped on.

"Hello, there. Are you a customer?" A tall woman sat at the edge of the pizza box laden desk. Long wheat hair cascaded down her back, ending far past chest level. Speaking of chest, she also bore a very impressive... bustier. At least, that's what the piece of black leather reminded Nero of.

Nero blinked. "Customer? Is this a hooker shop?" He instantly regretted subjecting their ears to those harsh words. Mr. Grouchy he was.

From behind, Dante clamped a rough hand on his shoulder but his reply held levity. "Please, have some decorum. This is a fine establishment you're making cracks at."

Too late to retract his unintended barb, Nero shrugged an apology. "Demon hunting is popular?"

The woman spoke in an appealingly throaty voice. "It has its better days. You're Nero, right?" She stood from the desk and seemed to sway towards him. The flirtatious gait of her hips and the coy gaze sparked recognition in Nero's mind. She moved like that busty new Order woman he had met while originally scouting for the alleged killer Dante in Fortuna. Her voice sounded similar, too. It couldn't be, could it? Her blue eyes were the same. "Gloria?" he asked tentatively.

"Gloria" responded with a catty purr. "Ooh, you're a good one to remember someone you've met once."

Dante laughed entertainingly as he plunked himself in his chair behind the large desk. He swiped a can of tomato juice off the tabletop and swung his feet up. "She's right about your memory. Her name is Trish, not Gloria. She's one of my partners in fighting demon crime."

Nero smirked. "Demon crime? What's next, will you have a theme song and call yourselves Devilbusters?" He recalled watching a movie with a similar name; Dung Busters or something like that.

Feigning the arrival of a brilliant idea, Dante raised his beverage high. "Gosh, that's a great tip! Hey, Trish, wouldn't you want to be a Devilbuster?"

Said woman laughed like he was being ridiculous. "Isn't that going overboard? I'm already part of your team. No need to drive me nuts with names."

Trish offered her hand to Nero to shake. He averted his eyes as she leaned forward, giving him a whopping eyeful of cleavage. Granted, he learned to appreciate the curves of women's bodies like any other hot-blooded male, but the... plumpness of hers practically leaping in his face were too much. Nero tilted his head away to elude her hand and pretended to examine the weapons scattered around the room on the walls.

The woman reclaimed her hand and stepped back with crossed arms. "My, you're a nice one. What will it take for you to unwind?"

"Trish, don't bother flirting," Dante retorted to her, "he's already taken."

At the reminder of why Nero traveled all the way to Dante's domain, Nero's face began transforming into exasperation. Downward eyebrows and a stiff mouth, he was a bomb fuse demanding a lighter, all right.

Dante's smart mouth parted at understanding. "Trish, get this guy a beer. Possibly two."

"Done and done." Trish wholeheartedly agreed with the devil hunter's assessment. She left the room through an open doorway to the side where Nero could make out a kitchen. The beer fetcher returned with a case of canned beers, lightly condensating. Half of them were gone. She tossed a drink to Nero and the younger man automatically stretched his right Devil Bringer arm out, snatching the beverage in mid-air almost as soon as she threw it.

"He's fast." Trish sounded impressed and put down the case on the wide desk. She turned to the lounging Dante. "Oh, he can do tricks. Can we keep him?"

"Easy there, I'm not a puppy," Nero replied on his own. He didn't really feel like downing alcohol but it was rude to turn down an offered drink.

"A trickster and cute to boot. What a combination." Trish playfully winked at him. Nero shrugged indifferently.

The red-clad man behind the desk appraised Nero. "No way, this boy, a trickster? The little lady of his wouldn't like it if he acted that way to her."

"No lady enjoys being deceived." Trish lifted a thin eyebrow at Dante. She went to the wall behind Dante where the huge Sparda sword hung and removed it from its hooks. "It's exterminating time. I'm going to make some rounds outside."

Dante sighed dramatically. "No rest for the wicked, hmm?"

"Funny." Trish hoisted the thick blade on her back. After checking her Luce and Ombra pistols she had holstered, she wiggled nimble fingers at the two men. "See you two later. Nero, especially you," she added with teasing intent as she passed behind the visitor on her way out.

As the entrance doors closed behind Trish, Nero engagingly shook his head. "That is some partner you have there."

"She's the tip of the partner iceberg, bud. There's also Lady. She drops by routinely to drop loads of unwanted debts in my busy lap." Dante swigged his can of perfectly normal tomato juice. Nero half expected him to mix some sort of mystical elixir with the juice. Wasn't that what non-humans did?

"She sounds... nice." Nero couldn't fathom what else to answer about a woman he hadn't met.

"Heinous, is what you must mean. She always finds a way to slip me a bill so I won't forget to pay her back."

Nero tipped his head to the front doors. "Is Glor- uh, Trish your girlfriend?"

Dante was halfway through a gulp of tomato juice when he choked at Nero's unpredictable question. Once he cleared his airway, Dante answered without malice. "No. A close companion. That's all."

The guy wore a weird expression, like he was holding back some deeper secret. Nero hadn't a clue what his deal was. "She's flirted with you, right?"

"Sure."

"And?"

"I'm here. I'm single. What could that mean?"

"You don't like her?"

"It's not easy to explain."

"So you do like her?" Nero felt like he was riding a questioning merry-go-round.

"There are... complications. A relationship isn't in the picture." Dante rested his vision on a framed photo on the corner of his desk, but brought his attention up to Nero.

"And Lady?"

"Her love is money." Dante said this coolly and with a straight face.

"Really." Nero arched a careful brow as if he couldn't believe it. "Neither of you have tried anything?"

Dante laughed derisively. "If punting me out of this chair to come with her is a sign of affection, I must be missing something. And I mean punting literally. She's got thick boots! Ouch." Dante finished his drink, set down the can, and pulled a beer from the case. He didn't pop the tab. "What brings you to this lovely neighborhood? Not that I don't appreciate the trip, but it is a long one for you."

Nero groaned, giving in to venting his frustrations. He deserved petty vents after the colossal barrage of epiphanies and conspiracies that transpired lately in Fortuna. The freak Sanctus ripped away normalcy for many good folks in the city. Nero took it upon himself to claim some. If his complaining contained any drops of substance, he didn't care. He was cutting loose. "God, it's Kyrie."

"Hmm, how'd I guess?"

Agitated, Nero began to pace. "She's nice. I mean friendly. Really friendly. Always helping out the townspeople whenever they ask her. They always ask her, y'know, for advice, for guidance. She's such an amazing woman."

A skeptical stare Nero expected came from Dante. "She's an amazing woman and yet you're here bellyaching about her?"

"She's so nice!" Nero replied sharply, too loudly. He was remotely aware of the unopened aluminum can gripped in his Devil Bringer which threatened to be crushed. The pulse of glowing blue in his arm affirmed his anger. Nero exhaled.

Dante waited patiently, knowing Nero would eventually spit out the rest of his girlfriend woes. Nero didn't think he could sound any weirder complaining about a kind-hearted girl.

He rattled on. "The citizens chat with her a lot and she likes to converse with them, get to know them. She talks so much to them. She's patient, and wonderful, and a good listener, and man, is she tolerant with kids." Nero irritatingly shook his Devil Bringer arm to accentuate each point. "Morning, noon, lunch, dinner, ugh, the people come. Of course everyone wants to be around her, what with the disaster the Savior put everyone through."

"Especially you," Dante finished quietly.

"Yes!" The outburst was heated as Nero blazed at Dante. "Wanna know what else gets to me? I'm not always free! I need to lend a hand too-" Nero rolled his eyes at his ironic pun, "and yeah, I get busy, too. But it always seems whenever I do get freedom, she's with someone."

Dante made an agreeing noise.

Nero ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "I'm not going to demand she stop meeting these people, 'cause that's selfish."

"Damn, tough situation." Dante tapped the top of his can, then added blithely, "Well, find another woman in the meantime for those times you are free."

Nero shot a scathing glare at the elder. "I'm not like you, imbecile. I'm honorable. I stand by one woman and don't betray her."

Dante threw up his hands in surrender. "Whoa, it was a suggestion. Oh, hey," Dante moved his legs off his desk at an inspired scheme. Nero could see it forming. A wolfish grin spread on Dante's mouth. "She has to sleep, right? Spend time with her then. No way anyone but you can get to her."

A growl escaped Nero when he felt his face burn bright red. "G-geez, what you suggesting?"

The half-demon rose and put down his beer. His swagger dominated joker status when he stepped in front of the pissed off Nero. He looped his arm around the shoulders of his guest, much to Nero's distaste. Dante raised his gaze to the phosphorus glow of the overhead fan light as if looking at a goal and gesticulated with his free gloved hand. "The night comes and the moon is out. All is silent. People are locked away in their rooms. Hark, Kyrie is alone in her own haven. You, possessing supreme sneaking abilities, make your way to her. Knock on the door, or open it without knocking if you're bold. You enter, shut the door behind you, lock it tight. Then you give her the best-"

"Shut up!" Nero viciously swiped at Dante's chest with his gleaming demonic arm. The attacker missed slashing him and instead squeezed the life out of his pressurized can. Frosty cold beer sprayed up, soaking Nero's face and vest and partly catching the dodging Dante.

Unwelcomingly loud guffaws which were certainly not Nero's filled the room. Dante looked affronted at the stain on his outfit but was enjoying more of the spectacle of the other man who was stunned and reeked of beer. "Aw, kid, you ruined your drink! I'm not giving you another."

Hot-faced from his rant and accident, Nero merely stood there, grumpy. The fizzy beer itched the front of his scalp and parts of his bangs were wet. His drunkard look was now complete and he wasn't even imbibing the beer!

Into the bathroom Dante disappeared to, who soon reappeared with two towels. He held one up from across the room like a matador goading a raging bull. Nero moodily flung out his long Devil Bringer and his claws snatched the soft fabric. Despite his temper, he controlled the force of his seize. Nothing ripped.

"I'd hate to have been the can." Dante commented this while he dried off his silver hair with his towel and then dropped it on the edge of the desk. The crumpled tin was almost flattened in Nero's fist.

Nero glanced at the garbage, then chucked it into the partially overflowing wastebasket near his desk. He wiped the stickiness from his face and the front of his vest. Beer even splotched on his coat. Damn, what a good job he did on himself! "The beer woulda sucked." He tried to sound apathetic when actually he had been reevaluating guzzling the alcohol to calm his nerves.

"What are you going to do about your problem? Since sleeping with the babe is obviously out." Dante blocked the used towel Nero promptly tossed in his face and joined it with its mate.

He really didn't know. Was Dante really helping him? What the hell was Nero doing? The weary man sighed heavily and flopped down on the bright red leather loveseat near him. He completely splayed his body, stretching out his legs and slumping his head to the rear so his vision focused on the ceiling. His arms lay limply at his sides. If someone could be classified as liquid form, Nero was the epitome.

He closed his eyes. Relax, breathe deep; this ought to help the fire that seared through his veins. A wiggle of an important thought jogged through his cerebrum. Something related to Kyrie. Before Nero could tackle it, the idea had already crossed the finish line and disappeared. Ugh.

A knock sounded at the entrance. It was politely light, three times. Since it was another one of Dante's walk-ins, Nero didn't bother acknowledging the person by looking. He felt drained. He'd regain his strength while Dante chatted with his customer. After, Nero could whine more if he didn't fall asleep first.

Murmuring could be heard at the door but Nero was too out of it to listen. Why, he could almost feel his neurotransmitters shutting down for the night. He heard the sweetly familiar call of his name right next to his ear. Huh? Why was Dante's deep baritone voice sounding higher than normal?

Nero's eyes flashed open. The lovely lady he had been raging on for God knows how long was in front of him. She was leaning forward, her hands touching her knees as she studied him closely. Her chestnut bangs, normally neat, were ruffled. Dante had taken up residence at his desk again.

"Kyrie!" Nero's languid body refused his mental command to scramble to his booted feet, let alone sit up. "What are you doing here?"

The slightly smiling woman straightened. "I tried to find you in Fortuna. I was done my duties early and wanted to see if you were done yours."

"Yeah, I finished pretty quickly." Nero resisted the bitter surge he felt well up. He brooded at the rotating fan light above to be safe. "How did you get here? Bus?"

"I... I found a ride here." Kyrie rubbed her arm in unusual discomfort.

It took mere seconds for Nero to bolt up to a sitting position at an upsetting insight. He stared at her accusingly. "Did you hitchhike?!"

Kyrie's dark eyes glittered defiantly. "There wasn't any faster method. I'm not familiar with this area, so I thought I'd find someone here who could show me where this place you told me about was."

"Crazy! You realize you are, right? Hitchhiking could've landed you in a hell of a predicament!" Nero now chose to be outraged instead of sulky.

"You went away without telling anyone. I was worried! I thought something might have happened to you. Nobody knew where you were." She pressed a hand to her chest.

It dawned. Oh right, in his downright haste to get here Nero did leave without mentioning his trip to anyone. Guilt wracked Nero. He didn't mean to make Kyrie worry. The lethargic emotion dulled his temper and his fatigue, allowing him to stand. He reached for her, his tone gentle. "Kyrie, I'm sorry. I was... I wanted to consult Dante about something-"

Kyrie's balled hands flew to her sides and she frowned at him. She sniffed. "Here you are, and you're drinking!"

"What?" Nero confusedly stopped his embrace in mid-stretch.

"I can smell the alcohol. You're drinking and planned to drive back drunk? How reckless! You might get hurt, maybe worse. Don't you know how much you mean to me?" Kyrie's bright eyes shone with dampness.

In this brief, emotionally fraught moment, her anger appeared absolutely gorgeous to Nero. Despite her hostility, the compassionate woman had never seemed more beautiful. He couldn't explain why.

"You're... you're mad?" Nero felt a tickling rise within him.

"Why wouldn't I be? I just got you back." Kyrie closed her eyes. "Don't run off like this! Don't you understand searches are hard?"

Nero's eyes widened. Oh, she was like him! Someone who could madden as he could. Someone who laughed in joy. Someone who could chase after another without doubts. She was here and so was he!

He understood his runaway reason he was upset with Kyrie. She yelled at him! She did it. He hadn't heard her get riled in ages. He had forgotten how she was like when she wasn't saintly all the time. It had been so long. He didn't know how much he needed this reminder of this side of her. Nero threw his arms around her in a tight hug, nearly barreling her over. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Bewilderment was Kyrie's confused response when she exclaimed at her loss of equilibrium. Nero held her upright by the shoulders. He must've been grinning like a loony but he didn't care.

There was a mechanical click. After a pause, the beginning notes of a dreamy saxophone spilled in the room. They turned to see Dante in front of his massive jukebox, his index finger poised above one of the colored buttons. He met their eyes with a unconcerned shrug. "Oops, my finger slipped. Wrong song." No attempt was made to change the track.

Smiling more lightheartedly at Kyrie, Nero stepped back into a low bow with his right hand extended. He was a capricious one tonight. "Shall we dance?"

A blush, cute as could be, passed Kyrie's cheeks. She slipped her fingers into the hand of his Devil Bringer. It shimmered the fondest of golden yellow.

-- THE END --


End file.
